


boring boy

by Clown_Teeth



Series: joey and eric drama [1]
Category: Murderdolls (Band), Slipknot (Band)
Genre: 1, Aftercare, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Awkward Conversations, Crying, Denial of Feelings, Drinking, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fighting Kink, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forced Bonding, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Goodbyes, Hair Brushing, Holding Hands, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Pining, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, RPF, Rejection, Self-Hatred, Sharing Clothes, Showers, Slurs, Smut, Tears, Tenderness, mentioned eric/roxanne, mentioned joey/wednesday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Teeth/pseuds/Clown_Teeth
Summary: "Joey!"At this, he glanced over his shoulder, not fully making eye contact with Eric.Eric grinned, waving his arm faster, unable to hide his growing excitement at the prospect of seeing his old friend again. "Hey! Come over here, it's been so long, man-"Joey spun around, facing him from a few feet back. "Yeah, meet and greet is after the show, kid. I'm signing stuff then," he stated, plainly, before turning on his heel to face the rest of his bandmates once again.Eric's face twisted into a look of confusion and hurt, as his arm slowly lowered to his side. Did Joey...not recognize him?
Relationships: Eric Griffin/Joey Jordison, Joey Jordison/Joseph Poole | Wednesday 13
Series: joey and eric drama [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110146
Comments: 40
Kudos: 31





	1. first step

**Author's Note:**

> hey uhh... haven't wrote in awhile! so this is me kindve easy my way back into it! this is set around 2005, a little after murderdolls broke up. basically joey is a self centered ass but who cares cause he's pretty yknow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been awhile since he'd seen Joey - or anyone else from the band - for that matter. Not that there was a 'band' left to speak of. Murderdolls just weren't high up enough, not selling enough albums, not making enough money. At least, not for Joey's ego. It was never enough for Joey.
> 
> They just weren't Slipknot, were they?

Heat. Sweat. Skin. Bodies sticking to each other.

It sounded sexier than it was.

For Eric, it was irritating. It made his skin crawl in the type of way that feels like flies buzzing right by your ears. People were crammed against each other, cheering and pushing forward, anxious for the doors to open.

It had been a while since he'd seen Joey - or anyone else from the band - for that matter. Not that there was a 'band' left to speak of. Murderdolls just weren't high up enough, not selling enough albums, not making enough money. At least, not for Joey's ego. It was never enough for Joey.

They just weren't Slipknot, were they?

He scrunched his nose up, squinting his eyes and looking up at the sky. He dragged the back of his hand across his forehead, sighing. People were pressed against him from all sides, and he could feel someone's elbow digging into the right side of his lower back. What was he doing here again?

A commotion began towards the front, and Eric stood up on his toes, stretching his neck out to try and see above the crowd. He squinted again, groaning in frustration at the sun shining in his eyes. He dared to take a step closer, his chest almost flush against the back of the man in front of him. Using his hand to shield his eyes from the light, he tried to see ahead once more.

Eric swore he caught a glimpse of one of the masks. It looked like it was white, it was definitely on one of the taller guys, ...was his name James? Well if he's here, then Joey has to be close by, the concert must be about to start.

He began pushing ahead, mumbling out 'sorry's and 'excuse me's. He squeezed through people, trying not to trip over anyone's feet, or push anyone over. After a bit of maneuvering, he found himself about a foot or so away from the front gate.

It was open now, and people were slowly filtering in. From his viewpoint, Eric could just catch a few of those black jumpsuits, along with a mess of colorful hair he immediately recognized as Corey. More determined than ever, he pushed forward again, ignoring the complaints of people making their way through.

"Joey!" he called out, now at the front, pressing against the gates. "Hey, man! Joe!"

Eric waved his arm, now spotting him.

Joey stood out in the small crowd of men, even if they're all dressed the same. His shorter stature and the jumpsuit ending just past his knees made him stand out.

"Joey!"

At this, he glanced over his shoulder, not fully making eye contact with Eric.

Eric grinned, waving his arm faster, unable to hide his growing excitement at the prospect of seeing his old friend again. "Hey! Come over here, it's been so long, man-"

Joey spun around, facing him from a few feet back. "Yeah, meet and greet is after the show, kid. I'm signing stuff then," he stated, plainly, before turning on his heel to face the rest of his bandmates once again.

Eric's face twisted into a look of confusion and hurt, as his arm slowly lowered to his side. Did Joey...not recognize him?

Was he joking?

It felt like a punch to the gut. He found himself wondering why he even drove out here in the first place. He was right when he said that they'd never be Slipknot. How could he add up to a decade and a half of friendship? Eric had known Joey, what, maybe six years? Yeah, like he had a chance at competing with that.

Eric scoffed, pushing himself away from the gate and turning his back on the whole situation. With shaking hands, he began to make his way back to the parking lot. This time, he didn't care if he pushed people out of the way.

Once again ignoring their complaints, he shoved his way through the crowd, keeping his head down. When he finally broke free of the crowd, he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He kept walking, trying to find some form of solitude. He found a mostly empty area by a dumpster, save for a few roadies smoking cigarettes.

Eric sighed, leaning back against a wall. He closed his eyes, letting his head rest against the bricks. He was pretty sure he was behind some dingy punk bar. Not that it mattered anyway. He just needed some air.

He looked down at his hands, realizing that they'd been clenched into fists. He didn't know how long he'd been doing it, but when he relaxed his hands, his fingers throbbed and his knuckles popped. He winced, rubbing his thumb along the knuckles.

He thought back to what Joey said.

_'Yeah, meet and greet is after the show, kid. I'm signing stuff then.'_

Eric chewed on his lower lip, his brows furrowing together. Did Joey really not recognize him? He couldn't have been joking, he would've said something when he walked away.

"Guess I didn't really leave a lasting impact, huh?" he grumbled, picking at his nails.

Bad habits.

He pushed himself off the wall, suddenly feeling restless. He paced the distance of the alley, the roadies long gone by this point. He found himself wondering if the concert had started yet...

Should he go back?

No, no, don't go back. Definitely not worth it. It doesn't matter how much he spent on the tickets, it wasn't worth it. It'd just make him feel bad.

So why was he walking out the alley?

Eric fiddled with the ticket in his pocket, his steps slowing. Why should he go back? Joey's such an ass, even if he did talk to him, he probably wouldn't even remember it. Or care, for that matter.

But god, he wanted to see Joey.  
Why'd he want to see him so bad anyway?

Eric kept walking.

He made his way to the gate, the number of people outside having dwindled significantly. He heard music playing, so the concert had definitely begun. Which meant he'd have to wait to talk to Joey until after anyways...

Fuck, why'd he wait so long?

Contemplating how he was going to make it through this concert without wanting to blow his brains out, Eric made his way to the employee outside. Chewing on his bottom lip, he handed them his ticket, received a blue stamp on his hand, and made his way inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to get back into writing, this is my first work in a few years, sorry if it's rough! anyways, this is set around 2005, shortly after murderdolls broke up!


	2. rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello? You there? You listening to me?" Joey questioned, waving his hand in front of Eric's face. 
> 
> He nodded, licking his lips, suddenly feeling sick, in a strange way he couldn't explain. "Yeah," he answered, nodding his head. "Sorry, what'd you say?" 
> 
> "I said," Joey started. There was that attitude again. "That I've been good. Great, actually. It's been really nice being able to put all my effort into something and getting the type of positive feedback I really want."

What felt like a day and a half later, Eric found himself breathless, trying to find his way through the dark concert hall towards the backstage exit.

The concert was good, very good, as he expected. He probably would've enjoyed it more without the looming thought of Joey forgetting about him hanging over his head.

Yeah, he definitely would've enjoyed it more.

He found the exit, and walked through without bothering to stop for the security guards. At this point in the night, he didn't care if he got thrown out. He just needed to see Joey.

He was so sick of hearing his name in his head.

After a bit of searching, he found a door labeled 'Corey', and after passing a couple more labeled doors, he came across the one he was looking for. It was a plain, painted black door, with a torn piece of white paper half taped to the door, with 'Joey' scrawled across it. Eric imagined the paper would fall if he shut the door hard enough.

Taking a breath, he knocked. He definitely wasn't prepared, but it didn't matter to him. He just needed Joey to recognize him, at least this time.

He heard some movement from the other side of the door, and what sounded like a chair being knocked over. He started picking at his nails again.

The door swung open, and there he was; hair damp and tangled, black paint smeared around his eyes, streaks of skin peeking through from the sweat dripping down his face. He still had his jumpsuit on, and he had a towel wrapped around his neck.

Joey looked him up and down, taking a step forward and wiping the sweat off his brow, smearing white and black paint across his face and arm.

"What is it?" Joey barked, the same annoyed tone from earlier dripping off his tongue.

Eric winced, his mouth opening, not knowing what to say.

"Uh," he began, his mouth suddenly dry, "...hey, Joe."

Joey's brow furrowed together, confused. He opened his mouth to question him, but suddenly his eyes flickered with recognition.

"Eric?" he gasped, his lips slowly turning up into a smile.

"Yeah, it's me."

Joey laughed, seemingly forgetting the awkward exchange just moments ago. He took a step back, opening the door wider.

"Come on! How have you been?" Joey exclaimed.

Eric smiled sheepishly, hesitating for a moment before taking a step inside.

"I've been okay… How have you been?" Eric questioned, taking the chance to look around the small room.

It was all white, even the floors. White tile, white walls, white ceiling…it gave Eric a headache. There was a small stool lying on its side by a table in the middle of the room; the likely culprit for the crashing sound earlier. In the corner was a standing mirror, it had small smudges on it; some were makeup, some were thumbprints.

Eric smiled at the thought of Joey doing his makeup in the mirror. He could picture him grabbing the side of the mirror to steady it with lipstick covered fingers…

Then he remembered that he doesn't really do his makeup anymore, he just smears some greasepaint on and goes on stage. They used to spend at least an hour backstage together, all of them, just doing their hair and makeup. He thought about a time when Joey did his eyeliner, because he was too wasted to steady his hands.

Small, paint-covered hands clapped together in front of Eric's face, snapping him back to reality. He jumped back, blinking a couple of times in quick succession before turning to face Joey.

"Hello? You there? You listening to me?" Joey questioned, waving his hand in front of Eric's face.

He nodded, licking his lips, suddenly feeling sick, in a strange way he couldn't explain. "Yeah," he answered, nodding his head. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"I _said,_ " Joey started. There was that attitude again. "That I've been good. Great, actually. It's been really nice being able to put all my effort into something and getting the type of positive feedback I really want."

Joey strode across the room as he said this, taking a seat on a small, futon couch. It looked uncomfortable, if Eric was honest. Or maybe it was what Joey said that made him feel that way.

"The type of positive feedback I feel like I _deserve_ , actually," Joey added, grinning.

"You don't think we had great fans?" Eric countered, feeling awkward and out of place, realizing he was out of his territory. This was a Slipknot concert, after all.

"What, you mean Murderdolls?"

"Yeah. I think we were great."

Joey scoffed, shaking his head with disbelief. "Well, yeah," he began, chuckling lightly, "we were good, but we weren't Slipknot."

The exact words Eric had told himself earlier.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That, yknow, we were a good little trial run. Something fun while it lasted."

"'Something fun while it lasted'?" Eric spat, now unable to hide his emotions.

Joey furrowed his brow, suddenly confused. "What? It's true. You can't tell me you expected it to last forever." Joey explained, a joking tone creeping into his voice.

Eric swallowed, his throat feeling thick. He felt thirsty all of the sudden. "So we were nothing to you, then?" he countered, clenching his jaw.

"Oh, come on, don't be so dramatic!" Joey exclaimed, laughing. "It's not that serious!"

"It is!"

"What does it even matter?" Joey's tone was harsher now. "Yeah, we had great fans. Yeah, we had a lot of fun. But it ended! It's over now, so I don't know why you're so caught up on it!"

"I thought that it just meant more to you."  
Eric gritted out, trying his best not to grind his teeth together.

'That I meant more to you,' was just on the back of his tongue.

Joey rolled his eyes, shaking his head before grumbling out, "Relax, _scene queen_. It's not that serious."

Eric felt like he was blacking out. He must've, because he doesn't remember reacting to what Joey said. He doesn't remember balling his fists up and swinging, or the feeling of his fist connecting with the side of Joey's face. He did remember watching Joey fall to the left, falling over onto his side and hitting the floor.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaimed, cupping his cheek and glaring up at Eric. "What the fuck is your problem?"

Eric felt bad, of course he did, but he couldn't worry about that right now. He could feel his blood boiling and swirling around in his veins. He knew deep down that Joey was right, but he had tunnel vision. He couldn't focus on that right now - he couldn't focus on anything but the things Joey had said.

_'...we were good, but we weren't Slipknot.'_   
_'Something fun while it lasted.'_

"I can't believe you," Eric hissed out, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. "I thought you were proud of what we made - what _you_ made. It's just not important to you now? I'm not important to you now?"

He couldn't hold his tongue anymore.

Joey was still glaring at him. Eric could see the anger behind his eyes. They were cold, distant. He could feel an apology rising in his throat, but he forced it back down. "What do you being important to me have anything to do with it?" Joey asked carefully, keeping his voice low.

"You didn't even recognize me when you first saw me!" Eric countered, scoffing and throwing his hands up in the air.

Joey slowly picked himself up off the floor, rubbing the side of his face, where it was beginning to swell up and become red. "You're so fucking entitled," he spat out, turning his back to him. "You think I left the band because of you?"

Eric froze at this comment, suddenly feeling very childish about the whole thing. He raised his hand to his lips, nervously chewing on his nails. "Well, not really…" he began, not even sure what to say anymore.

"What, you think you're my fucking boyfriend or something?" Joey was still going, spitting venom. "Cause we made out, like, twice after a show? Fuck off, Eric. I can do whatever the hell I want."

"So you just ditched us, left us all behind, because you wanted to do something different. What about us?"

"Last I heard everyone was doing good for themselves. But I guess that explains why you're here, you're worth jack-shit without me or Wednesday there to back you-"

"Why are you such a fucking asshole?!" Eric cut him off, his own gaze turning into a harsh glare. "Why are you the only one who matters now?"

"Because I wrote it!" Joey exclaimed, letting out a short laugh of disbelief. "I fucking wrote it, not you! So I don't see why it's so fucking important to you anyway! It's done - it ended! Just fucking move on already!"

Eric spun around, not wanting to hear more. He took a couple of deep breaths, taking a few steps for the door. "I don't know why I came here." he sputtered out, holding onto the wall for support.

"Yeah, I don't either." Joey snapped as he made his way to the mirror, where he inspected the reddening skin around his eye.

Eric watched him gently prod at the swollen skin with careful fingers, watching his face contort as he let out a quiet hiss. of pain. He felt like he didn't belong, like he should leave. This isn't how he wanted this to go…

"I'm not mad it ended," he began carefully, taking time to choose his words. "I just…miss you, I guess."

Eric felt stupid. He was looking at his shoes now, guilt and embarrassment quickly replacing the anger. He could feel his gut swirling with anxiety. He prayed Joey wasn't staring at him.

"We had a lot of fun…I miss hanging out. Getting drunk 'nd shit," Eric mumbled out, toeing at the scuff marks on the white tile.

He heard Joey sigh. Daring to glance up, he could see Joey eyeing him in the mirror. "For the record, I'm proud of the music we made. I just don't want to cling to past bullshit," he explained, lowering his hand from his face and spinning around to face Eric.

They made eye contact for a second, but it made Eric too uncomfortable. He felt ashamed. He didn't want to be looked at; especially not when he could see the beginning of a bruise forming around Joey's eye and his upper cheek.

Eric sighed, lighting kicking the floor before looking up at the ceiling. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. He wanted to talk about anything but this shit.

"She dumped me, yknow?" he said quietly, trying to steer the conversation towards something not about the band.

Joey frowned, looking away. He wasn't great at comforting people, and he didn't know why Eric chose to bring her up. He never really thought much of her anyway.

"That sucks, man." Joey finally settled on, looking down at his hands.

He chewed on his lip ring, feeling awkward. The room had a tension to it that he didn't like. He ran his palms down the front of his jeans, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Eric stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning to face Joey again. He gave him a shy smile, shrugging. "Guess I just wanted to hang out with an old friend," he stated, trying to extend a peace offering. "Wanna get drunk with me so I'll feel better?"

Joey let out a small laugh. He stood, grinning, and took a few steps towards Eric. "Get me some ice for my face, you prick," he said, clapping his hand on his shoulder. "Then we can go get wasted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! kindve a fast update, but I was in a writing groove. not sure where to go after this, so might take a sec for the next part. thanks a bunch for reading!!


	3. regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey shushed him. "You're so drunk," he shook his head, pulling away from him. "I'm drunk." 
> 
> Eric whimpered, stumbling forward. "No, no, that's not--that's not fair," he gasped out, clutching the collar of his shirt. "Please."

They stumbled, laughing and hanging onto each other for balance. The hallway they were walking down was spinning; all the doors to various rooms merging into one long, brown shape Eric couldn't place. He was so drunk, his mind was all over the place.

He could feel hands on him - Joey's hands - leading him to one of the doors. They both slumped forward, falling against the door. Joey laughed, fumbling with his room key while Eric tried to remember how he got here.

Concert, backstage, bar, party, elevator, and now here. It felt all too familiar, the drunken trip to Joey's hotel room. It reminded him of the time he had found himself in Joey's room, back when Joey still dressed up in his skirts, before he became a total hard-ass.

He remembered teasing him, telling him he looked like a girl. He remembered kissing him, playing with the skirt…

Eric was brought back by the door swinging open. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on the moment. What was happening? Oh right, Joey was grabbing his hand.

Fuck, Joey was grabbing his hand.

Joey laughed at Eric's stunned face, squeezing his hand and tugging him forward. "Cmon, don't be such a _fag_ ," he teased, pulling Eric into the room with him.

Eric forced out a laugh, stumbling forward. "Just forgot how handsy you get when you're wasted," he teased back, taking in the trashed state of the room. "How long are you in town?"

Joey rolled his eyes, turning to grab a bottle of Jack off the top of the dresser. "Fuck off," he grumbled, twisting the cap off. "And we got here last night. We're leaving tomorrow morning."

Eric nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He was swaying, a few too many shots coursing through his veins. His stomach felt warm from the alcohol. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

Joey was too busy focusing on emptying the bottle of whiskey from his previous night's antics to answer. He held up his hand, signaling for Eric to wait as he gulped the last of the liquor. He dropped the now empty bottle on the ground, gasping in air. His face was twisted into disgust, and he made a sound like he was gagging.

"Fuck-" he coughed out, shaking his head. "That shit was rough."

Eric grimaced. Joey's display of disgust was enough to make his stomach churn, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

Joey laughed, moving to stand in front of Eric again. "You good, man? You look a little green."

He nodded, forcing back the bile that was rising his throat. "Yeah," he choked out, nodding again. "I'm good."

Joey frowned and turned on his heel, striding to the bathroom. He stopped halfway there to look back at Eric with a look of confusion. "What're you doing standing there? Come on," he stated as if it was made obvious for Eric to follow him.

Even so, Eric made his way to the bathroom, stumbling a little. He took a seat on the bathroom floor, sitting back against the side of the bathtub. He flipped the lid of the toilet open, preparing for whatever may follow.

Joey flicked the lights on, and it made Eric's eyes burn. It was too bright, and it made his head pound. He groaned, and Joey laughed at him. "Don't be such a bitch!"

Eric flipped him off. He could feel the liquid in his stomach turning, and it wasn't sitting well. He quickly pushed himself forward, grabbing the sides of the toilet bowl and heaving. Tears sprung in the corners of his eyes, his throat tense and strained. His nose burned as he felt stomach acid rise in his throat.

"Fuck-" he gasped out, still gagging, expelling the contents of his stomach.

Joey grimaced, trying not to watch him, but not wanting to just leave him there either. He felt awkward, he didn't really know what to do. Eventually, he kneeled beside Eric, pushing the hair out of his face. His hair was damp with sweat, and Eric's face was white.

Eric shuddered, falling back against the bathtub again. He groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. Joey was still pushing his hair out of his face, and he shivered more. After a few minutes of silence, Joey cleared his throat.

"You okay?"

Eric nodded quickly, sitting up and flushing the toilet. He suddenly felt embarrassed. "Yeah, yeah," he stuttered out, looking up at him. "I'm good."

Joey nodded, scanning Eric's face for any signs that he wasn't telling the truth. Other than how pale and sweaty he was, he didn't seem to have anything wrong with him. He did, however, feel a surge of embarrassment rush through him as he realized his hand was still in Eric's hair.

He pulled his hand away quickly, standing. "Yeah, you seem fine, no need to call an ambulance," he joked, hoping Eric was too wasted to see how tense he was.

Eric laughed, slowly pulling himself to a standing position. He didn't seem to be affected by Joey touching him for so long. "Do you have anything but liquor here?" he finally asked, trying to wipe the sweat off his face.

"Uh," Joey began, his brows furrowing together in thought. "The sink?"

Eric laughed again, a genuine one, and it made the corner of Joey's lips twitch up into a smile. Would it be childish to say he had butterflies in his stomach? God, he felt so stupid.

Joey watched as Eric turned the faucet on and lowered his head, drinking water straight from the tap. It was an awkward angle, and Joey could hear him swallowing. He looked down at his feet, once again feeling unusually tense.

Eric finally lifted his head, taking a breath, and turned the sink off. He licked his lips, turning to face Joey expectantly. Joey realized they were in his hotel room, and it was really his decision as to what would happen next.

Should he call Eric a taxi home?

Eric cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow. "Sooo…? Do you want me to go?" he asked, picking at his nails.

Joey shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Wanna go out for a smoke?" he questioned back, trying to avoid the topic of Eric staying or going altogether.

"Yeah, sure."

Joey nodded, immediately turning and walking to a set of doors that led to a balcony. Eric patted his pockets, feeling for a pack. He cursed when he realized he didn't have one.

He made his way out onto the balcony with Joey, shutting the door behind them. "Can I bum a smoke?" he asked sheepishly, rubbing his hands together.

It had gotten cool outside, and Eric found himself shuffling closer to Joey for some warmth.

Joey snorted, handing Eric his already lit cigarette. "You can split this one with me," he answered, leaning towards him so their shoulders were touching.

Eric smiled, taking a slow drag from the cigarette. It was the first time he really felt comfortable with Joey tonight. He felt out of place, out of his zone since he walked into the concert hall. But being outside, alone, with Joey like this - it felt like being on tour with him two years ago. It was comforting.

He passed the cigarette back to Joey, glancing over at him. Joey did the same, and they locked eyes for a moment. Joey had such pretty eyes… He wished his eyes were blue. His eyes drifted to the now purple bruise around his eye, and he frowned, guilt washing over him.

Eric let go of the cigarette, not realizing he'd been holding onto it this long. He felt his cheeks get hot, and he turned away. Joey chuckled softly, and it only made him blush more.

"Yknow, I don't get why you wear those contacts."

Eric turned to face Joey, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked, instinctively reaching up to touch the area around his eyes.

"Well, I like your eyes," Joey started, exhaling the last bit of smoke from his cigarette before tossing the butt over the edge of the balcony. "I never understood why you wanted to cover them."

Eric frowned. Part of the reason he wore contacts was because he had always loved the way Joey's eyes looked - he felt like he could fall into them sometimes. He'd always felt that his eyes were boring; blue eyes just stood out more in stage makeup.

Joey leaned up on his toes, grabbing Eric's shoulder. "Lean down here," he murmured, reaching towards his face.

Eric obliged, leaning down to be face level with Joey. He could feel his breath on his face, and he knew he was blushing again.

"Open your eyes."

Eric did, not having realized he'd closed them. He watched carefully and Joey reached forward, his thumb pulling the skin below his eye down. Before Eric could question his actions, Joey used his other hand to slip Eric's contact out, the brown irises underneath now visible. He did the same with his other eye, and Eric wondered how he was steady enough to do this.

Eric blinked rapidly, reaching up to rub his eyes. It was strange, someone else removing his contacts. It was too close, too intimate.

"Hey, look at me."

Eric opened his eyes, eye to eye with Joey.

"That's so much better," Joey mumbled, his hand running along the side of Eric's face, down his cheek.

Eric held his breath, his eyes locked on Joey.

"You're so much prettier like this," Joey whispered, and just like that, Eric was melting in his touch.

He leaned into his hands, his eyes fluttering close. "Joey…" he whispered like he was afraid someone would hear him. "Please just-"

Joey shushed him. "You're so drunk," he shook his head, pulling away from him. "I'm drunk."

Eric whimpered, stumbling forward. "No, no, that's not--that's not fair," he gasped out, clutching the collar of his shirt. "Please."

Joey winced, feeling Eric's nails scrape over his collarbone. "Eric… don't-" he started, but Eric cut him off.

"You can't just do that to me it's… it's not- not- '' he was speaking so quickly, his words jumbling together. "Pl- please, _pleasepleaseplease_ just kiss me, please-"

Joey groaned, his resolve slipping. He'd never seen Eric like this before, so whiney and pleading. It made his stomach clench and his heart pound. He almost felt sorry for him.

"J-Joey-" he stuttered out, his hands sliding up Joey's neck and into his hair, grabbing fistfuls of dark locks and pulling.

Joey hissed, pain shooting through his skull.

"Shit, Eric…"

" _Please_!"

With one last plea, his resolve crumbled. He shot forward, slamming his lips against Eric's, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest. Eric gasped, stumbling backward, his grip tightening in Joey's hair.

"I-" he gasped for air, spitting out words in between feverish kisses. "- Missed you-"

Joey bit down on Eric's lower lip, and Eric let out a quiet sob.

"- So fucking much." he finally finished, pushing his chest flush against Joey's.

"I know, I know," Joey murmured, walking forward, leading Eric back inside. "I missed you, too."

Eric nodded, walking backward into the room, his hands never leaving Joey's hair. Joey kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw, trailing down to his neck. Eric tilted his head back, letting out soft sighs.

"I missed this…" he whimpered, his eyes closed.

Joey wished he would just be quiet. He grabbed the bottom of his own shirt, quickly pulling it off and tossing it to the side. He hoped that speeding things up would make Eric shut up. Eric watched him, his eyes glassy, filled to the brim with adoration.

Joey hated the way he was staring at him. It was too intimate, too close. He busied himself with undoing the button on Eric's jeans, trying to avoid eye contact.

Meanwhile, Eric was putty in Joey's hands. He was covered with goosebumps, his skin tingling anywhere Joey touched him. He felt high, and all he could see, all he could feel, all he could smell was Joey. Joey's fingers danced over his crotch and he whined, moving to hold his wrists.

Joey ignored him, shoving his hand down the front of his jeans and palming him through his boxers. He traced the outline of his cock with his fingers, pressing his palm hard against the wet spot forming on the front of his underwear. Eric was rocking into his hand, tightening his grip on Joey's wrist.

Joey stood up on his toes to kiss Eric's neck, taking the opportunity to bite and suck on the sensitive skin, reveling in the noises he made. He pressed his lips to his pulse point, feeling his heart racing under his skin. He traced his tongue over the area, listening to Eric sigh.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he mumbled against his skin.

Eric thought he was going to pass out right then and there. Joey was squeezing and rubbing him in all the right ways, and his breath on his neck only made it worse. His breath was hitching in his throat, and he pressed his hands to Joey's chest, pushing him back.

He took a small step back, allowing enough distance between them for him to remove his shirt. He attempted to pull his jeans down, but Joey stopped him. "Hang on," he cooed, running his hand down his stomach.

He was speaking so softly that Eric thought his heart was going to burst. Joey never spoke to him like that.

Eric whimpered, nodding. "I want you."

"I know."

"Then please just-"

"I'm going to, just be patient."

Joey had walked away from him now, going back to the bathroom. Eric stayed where he was, suddenly feeling very exposed. He took a couple of steps back, until he felt the bed hit the back of his legs. He took a hesitant seat, listening to Joey rummage through drawers.

He finally returned, a small container of vaseline in his hand. Eric grimaced at the sight, but Joey cut him off before he could say anything.

"I know, but it's not like I just keep a bottle of lube lying around," he explained, making his way over to the bed.

Joey stood in front of him, watching him carefully. Eric stared up at him expectantly, chewing on his lower lip. After a few seconds, Joey let out a breath.

"You know you're so pretty, right?"

Eric could feel the blood rushing to his face.

"J-Just touch me…" he whispered, lowering his head in shame.

Joey tossed the vasoline on the bed, gripping Eric's shoulders. "Lay back," he said softly, gently pushing on his shoulders.

Eric hummed, letting himself fall back onto the bed. Joey laughed softly, crawling on top of him. "How wasted are you?" he questioned, settling himself on Eric's lap.

"Mmmm…. m'not," he answered, a cheesy grin adorning his face. "Just love you."

Joey could feel bile rising in his throat, but he swallowed, forcing the hard lump down. "Y-Yeah," he stuttered, pressing his hands on Eric's chest for support. "Sure."

Before Eric could say anything, Joey leaned down and bit down on his chest, right above his nipple. Eric cried out in surprise, the previous exchange now forgotten. Joey forced the sound of Eric saying…what he said…to the back of his brain.

Eric bucked his hips up, reaching up to hold onto Joey's thighs. Joey sighed, grinding right back down onto him. It wasn't enough for Eric, he needed more than to be dry-humped like a teenager.

Joey sat up on his knees, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Eric's jeans and tugging them down. Eric lifted his hips and helped push them down, his underwear following shortly after. He felt shy, he felt so exposed. Joey hummed, running his hands up Eric's thighs.

He was so hard, standing at perfect attention for him. Joey carefully wrapped his hand around him, testing the waters. Eric let out a noise of approval, and that was all Joey needed. He traced his thumb along the purple vein that followed the underside of his cock. He gently pressed his thumb against his tip, feeling his precum already leaking out of him.

Eric whimpered, bucking his hips up into Joey's hand. He was going too slow, he was so fucking desperate. But Joey just kept taking his time, torturing Eric over and over again with minuscule touches.

Eric's eyes were screwed shut, his fists clenching the sheets. He was too scared to open his eyes, to look at Joey; he didn't think he'd be able to take it. So when he felt Joey's tongue on him, it made his whole body jolt with shock.

He gasped loudly, Joey's tongue tentatively running over his tip, dipping into the small slit on the head of his cock. He groaned, gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Joey hummed in approval, watching Eric's every move. He was eating it up - Eric was just so sensitive.

He pulled away all too soon, and Eric's eye shot open, locking onto Joey. He opened his mouth to complain, but Joey gave him a light smack on the inside of his thigh. He yelped, his hips jerking forward. Joey merely smirked, rubbing his thumb over the reddening skin.

"Flip," he commanded, simply.

Eric didn't question him, he just rolled onto his front. He hummed, his stomach flat on the bed, and wiggled his hips. The pressure on his cock felt great, and he couldn't help but rock his hips forward. Joey watched him for a moment, letting his hands roam.

He trailed his hands up his sides, up over his shoulders to the back of his neck, before dragging them down his back. Eric sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. Joey dragged his hands over his ass, squeezing the soft flesh before lowering his hands to his thighs.

Joey pushed his legs apart, kneeling between his thighs. Eric shifted, lifting his hips off the bed. Joey fumbled for the container he haphazardly threw onto the bed earlier. When he found it, he twisted the cap off and set it beside him.

Eric huffed, his thighs twitching. Joey figured if he didn't touch him soon, he'd start begging again. So he dipped his fingers in the vaseline, smearing it onto his index and middle fingers. He gauged Eric's reactions, watching him as he spread him. Eric held his breath, trembling. When Joey's finger finally traced around the ring of muscle, he jolted, gasping.

Joey shushed him, his other hand resting on his hip. He rubbed his thumb along his skin, trying to soothe him. He ran his middle finger in slow circles around his entrance, letting him relax and get used to the feeling. The tension slowly left Eric's body, and it wasn't long before he was lifting his hips, silently asking for more.

Joey obliged, sliding his finger into him slowly. Eric winced, biting his bottom lip to keep quiet. It was uncomfortable, foreign. The last person to touch him like this was…well, Joey, but that had been over a year ago.

Joey slowly spun his finger around inside him, feeling along his walls. He was so tight, Joey wondered if he'd been fucked since their last drunken encounter; he knew he probably hadn't. After a while, he was able to slide another finger into him.

Eric was panting at this point. His face was buried in the sheets, and he was sure Joey was going so slow just to torture him. Joey was scissoring his fingers in him now, stretching him out and fucking him slowly. Eric felt like his loins were on fire.

He rocked back onto his hand, letting out soft moans. Joey felt like he was going to implode if he didn't fuck Eric in the next minute, but he knew he had to wait. It was difficult, his cock was straining against his pants so hard it was actually starting to hurt. He was practically drooling at the sight of Eric spread open like this in front of him.

All his, to do whatever he wanted to…

He leaned down, pushing Eric's hair off his neck. He kissed along the side of his throat, up to his ear. He nibbled on his earlobe, groaning out a barely audible, "You're so fucking sweet."

Eric whimpered, loud. "Please…" he moaned out, his voice muffled by the sheets. "Please, I need it."

Joey grabbed a fistful of Eric's hair, pulling it. Eric cried out in surprise, his head lifting off the sheets.

"What was that?" Joey questioned, taking the chance to add a third finger.

Eric gasped, whining.

"I-" he was panting, his lungs burning. "I need _you_. Please."

Joey couldn't hold back his moan, Eric sounded like he was going to cry. He slid his fingers out of him, Eric letting out a complaining whine. Joey ignored him, trying his best to undo his jeans with shaking hands. His pants were so fucking tight…

He finally got the zipper down, and he sighed in relief. He shoved his boxers and jeans down with one hand, leaving them halfway down his thighs; he had more important things to worry about. He dipped his fingers back in the vaseline, finally getting his hands on himself.

He moaned, his head rolling back as he jerked himself off. He tightened his grip around the base of his cock, moving his hand faster. He forgot where he was for a moment, Eric's needy whines snapping him back to reality.

Joey begrudgingly stopped his movements, biting his lip so hard he thought he was going to break the skin. With his free hand, he gripped Eric's waist, pulling him back towards him. Eric hummed, a dopey smile on his face. He was finally getting what he wanted, and he knew it.

Joey circled his tip around Eric's entrance, forcing himself not to ram into him. Eric held his breath, trying his hardest to be patient. Joey finally slid into him, so slowly, and they both exhaled with relief. Eric was a mess, already trying to roll his hips back onto Joey's cock.

Eric was so fucking tight, Joey didn't think he could stand it. He drew back slowly, watching the way his hole stretched, before sliding back into him. His hands were trembling, it took everything in him not to fuck him like a madman.

Eric was moaning with each thrust, his breaths getting higher and higher in pitch. He reached between his thighs, finding his cock and stroking himself slowly. He was trying to time his movements to Joey's, but he couldn't help but move his hand over himself faster and faster.

It wasn't long before what little resolve Joey had left disappeared, and he started moving his hips faster, slamming into him harder. Eric was gasping, his free hand clenching the sheets. Joey needed him so fucking bad, he just wanted to ruin him so bad…

His nails were digging into Eric's hips, and Eric prayed there would be bruises. He wanted to be marked, he wanted to be Joey's. Eric let out a sound that Joey couldn't identify as a sob or moan; he didn't care either way.

Joey was really fucking him now, the sound of his skin slapping against Eric's filling the room. He could smell the sweat that was dripping down Eric's back, he could smell the all too familiar scent of sex. Joey was moaning, loud, using one of his hands to force Eric's face into the mattress.

His moans, though muffled, still rang through the room. All Joey could hear was his name, whether it was shouted, or sobbed, or moaned. Joey, Joey, Joey.

"Oh my god, _ohmygod-_ "

"Shut up," Joey hissed through clenched teeth.

He was so fucking close.

Eric could feel tears streaming down his face, he was letting out quiet sobs. It felt so good…

His stomach clenched, his orgasm approaching. Joey's cock was pressing right into his prostate and it was driving him crazy.

Where Joey was holding his head down ached, but it all felt too good for him to care. His eyes were rolling back in his head, and he could feel his sense tingling. He gripped at the sheets, gasping and writhing as he came. Hot ropes of cum painted the bed below him, and he was crying.

Joey cursed, Eric falling forward. His body went limp, but Joey was still going. He was panting, groaning as he kept fucking him. Eric let out quiet whimpers, his body rocking forward with each thrust. Joey finally came, and Eric only started crying more at the sticky warmth that spilled inside him.

Joey collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. Eric whimpered, he could feel his cock still inside him, softening. "J-Joey…"

Joey hummed, lifting himself after a moment, pulling out. Eric felt his cum dripping out of him, and he hated the way it made his half-hard cock twitch. Joey rolled onto his back beside him, and Eric kept his face in the sheets.

Joey grazed his knuckles down Eric's spine, still trying to catch his breath. He had definitely sobered up, and his body was sore and tired.

Eric eventually rolled onto his side to face Joey, tears staining his cheeks. He let out a barely audible sigh, reaching up to wipe his face. He didn't know what to say, so he just watched him, praying he'd know what to do.

But Joey just stared back at him, silent. After a few moments, he sighed, rolling on his side and turning the bedside lamp off. The room was shrouded in darkness, and Eric felt suddenly miles away from Joey.

"Goodnight," Joey murmured, his back to him.

Eric stayed where he was, contemplating what to do next.

He eventually whispered a quiet, "Goodnight," before turning on his side.

He wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh yeah so that happened 😳 they're gay babieee  
> basically I'm just really obsessed with their eyes and I wanted to incorporate it into here


	4. distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey grunted, writhing underneath Eric, pulling his arms free and attempting to shove him back. Eric was quicker though, and managed to restrain his arms above his head, giving up on trying to kiss him now.
> 
> Joey glared at him harshly, the feeling of Eric's saliva on his lips disgusting him. "What," he spat, "are you gonna rape me now?" 
> 
> Eric scoffed, shaking his head, his grip loosening. "Fuck you," he retorted. "Don't act like you suddenly don't want me anymore because you're sober." 
> 
> Joey scowled, pulling his hands free of Eric's grasp. He didn't bother trying to fight, knowing he was in a compromised position. He crossed his arms over his chest, staying as close to the wall as he possibly could; not that he could get any closer.

Eric's head was pounding. He rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. The blanket was pulled over his head, everything around him dark. He groaned, rubbing his temples. With his free hand, he reached an arm out and felt around for Joey.

His fingers brushed against Joey's arm, and he hummed. He wiggled closer to him, running his arm up to his back. Joey's skin was smooth, and Eric let out a soft sigh. It was nice to be so close to him.

Eric was on his side now, curled around Joey's side. Joey was lying on his stomach, snoring softly, still asleep. Eric pressed his face into his shoulder, inhaling. He smelled like sweat and sex, with an underlying stench of alcohol. It wasn't a necessarily pleasant smell, but Eric enjoyed it nonetheless. He smiled to himself, his torso now pressed against Joey's side.

Joey grunted, shifting, but stayed asleep. Eric reached up, playing with the hair on the back of his neck. His fingers drifted down the side of his neck, and Eric left a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

Joey groaned, stirring, and slowly rolled onto his back. He lazily rubbed his eyes, eventually turning his head to face Eric. Eric laid his arm across Joey's stomach, resting his chin on his shoulder.

Eric looked up at him and gave him a sleepy smile. "Good morning," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

He cleared his throat, licking his chapped lips. "Good morning," he repeated, a little louder. "Sorry."

Joey grimaced, pushing Eric's arm off of him and sitting up. He pushed his hair out of his face, taking in the evidence of last night's events. The clothes on the floor, the sheet pulled off of one of the corners of the mattress, an empty liquor bottle.

Joey sighed, his head pounding. He felt sick, and he quickly climbed out of bed. He was naked, and he curled his lips in disgust, once again remembering what happened with Eric.

He kicked around at the clothes on the floor, eventually finding an old pair of jeans. He picked them up, shaking them off, before pulling them over his legs. They were cold, and he shuddered with discomfort. He tried his best to ignore the feeling, and made his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Eric slowly sat up, resting his back against the headboard. He figured Joey was hungover; he was never a morning person anyway. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, feeling his shoulders pop. He figured he should get dressed too, so he stood, slowly, and found his clothes.

He was almost completely dressed by the time Joey came out of the bathroom.

Joey was wearing a shirt now, most likely one he found on the bathroom floor. His hair was combed out, and he appeared to be more awake than he was earlier. "Morning, grumpy," Eric teased, a playful smile on his face, while he looked for his shoes.

Joey scowled, spotting one of Eric's ridiculous platforms by the bed. He picked it up and tossed it to him, not caring if it hit him or not. "Fuck off," he grumbled, his voice low.

Eric frowned, slowly bending to grab the boot Joey had thrown. "What's your problem?" he asked quietly, still searching for the match.

Joey fell back onto the bed, his face in his hands. He sighed, staying like that for a moment.

"I'm tired," he finally answered. "I'm tired, I'm hungover, my head hurts. I really don't want to deal with you right now."

Eric knew Joey was in a bad mood, but it's not like he had been annoying or anything. "Well, you helped me last night," he proceeded with caution, "let me get you some water and some Tylenol-"

"God, even your _voice_ makes my fucking head hurt," Joey interrupted, sitting up quickly.

Eric flinched, taking a step away from the bed instinctively. Why was he acting like this? Everything had been fine the night before, things were almost the way they used to be.

"I-" Eric was at a loss for words. "I'm…sorry… Do you want me to leave?"

Joey let out an annoyed laugh, throwing his arms in the air.

"Yes," he snapped, "I'd fucking _love_ it if you left!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eric's other boot. He wasn't sure why it made him so mad, but anger forced its way through his chest and up to his throat. The mere thought of Eric made him want to scream. He groaned in frustration, leaning over and grabbing the boot, before throwing it, hard, in Eric's direction.

Luckily, Eric dodged to the left at the right moment, the boot almost hitting him square in the chest. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, the sound of the shoe flying past him made him shake. "What the _fuck-_ " he spat, glaring Joey dead on, "is your fucking problem?"

Joey glared right back, unphased by Eric's words nor actions. " _Maybe_ ," he gritted through clenched teeth, "I don't want a stupid faggot in my fucking room! _Maybe_ I want some peace and fucking quiet!"

Eric bent over, picking up his shoes. He didn't care if they weren't on, he just had to leave. He turned to the door, reaching to open it. He didn't want to hear a word Joey had to say anymore.

"Oh, yeah, just fucking run away, like a little queer, right? Just like a girl would do? You're such an annoying little bitch-"

Eric spun around quickly, practically sprinting to get across the room to Joey. He grabbed him by the shirt collar, shoving him, and Eric fell with him. They landed on the ground, Joey on his back, Eric on top of him.

"Fuck you," Eric hissed out, pinning Joey to the floor.

Joey grunted, struggling to get Eric off of him. Joey wasn't weak, but he was smaller than Eric, and the most he could do from this position was kick his feet like a toddler and try and push him away by his shoulders. Realizing he was overpowered, he reared his head back, and spat in Eric's face.

Eric groaned in disgust, the action surprising him, taking him off guard. Joey seized the opportunity to switch the playing fields, and he shoved Eric back. Eric landed on his ass, letting out a surprised grunt. Joey quickly clambered to his feet, now standing above Eric.

Eric went to stand, but Joey shoved him back down and gave him a sharp kick to his thigh.

"Fuck _me?_ " he repeated back to him, laughing in disbelief. "You're such a fucking prick. The second anyone says a mean word to you, you cry like a little pussy."

Joey paused, pushing Eric back onto the floor as he tried to stand once more.

Eric let out a frustrated groan, becoming fed up with Joey's stupid power play. He grabbed Joey's ankle, yanking his foot out from under him, and watched as he fell back. Joey let out a surprised yelp, trying, and failing, to catch himself on the chair. His back and head banged against the floor, and he cursed and winced in pain.

Eric finally stood, taking a step over Joey to the door. His breathing was ragged, and he reached up to wipe the half-dried spit from his face. He was shaking, trying to understand how everything went so wrong.

"Why-" he started to speak, but cut himself off.

"Why, what?" Joey spat, slowly sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. He seemed docile for now.

Eric frowned, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Why can't you just let this work?"

Joey scowled, standing. "There isn't anything to make work," he answered, trying to straighten out his now-tangled hair. "I get drunk, and you're an easy lay. That's it. I'm not a fag."

Eric winced, Joey was always so harsh with his words.

"What, are you going to cry about it?" Joey sneered at him, dropping his hand from his hair to his side.

"Why is it so easy for you to treat me like this?" Eric snapped, taking a step closer towards him.

"Because we're not a 'thing'!" Joey exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Why can't you just fucking get that?! I'm not you're fucking boyfriend, Eric!"

"Then why do you fuck me every time you take more than two shots?!"

This time, it was Joey's turn to swing on Eric. The second his fist connected with his jaw, his swore he heard bones pop. Eric's head flew to the side, and Joey could see the spit flying out of his mouth from the impact.

However, Joey hadn't expected Eric to recover quicker from the punch than he had. He was so caught up in his moment of pride, he didn't realize Eric had gotten ahold of him. He was brought back to reality when Eric slammed his back against the wall, the wind leaving his body.

Joey gasped for air, but his lungs just burned, feeling emptier. He winced, fighting against him. Eric had him pinned to the wall by his shoulders, and he was shaking. It was taking everything in him not to snap and beat Joey's stupid fucking face in….

Eric tightened his grip on him, and Joey winced again. They were both panting, out of breath. Eric could see the sheen of sweat covering his face and neck, he could hear Joey's heart pounding. Joey could see the hesitancy in his gaze. He shifted, pulling his arms in, trapping them between their chests.

Eric shuddered, Joey's palms flat against his chest. If he took a step closer, their hips would be touching…

Joey's fingers curled into Eric's shirt, clutching it. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. His lips were parted ever so slightly, and Eric could hear his breaths.

Eric's hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck, and he could smell the sweat on him. He could smell Joey, too.

He collapsed forward, pushing Joey flat against the wall, his body flush against his own. He kissed him feverishly, forcefully, Joey now fighting it. His teeth were bared, and he thrashed against Eric. Eric tightened his grip on him, his lips slamming against Joey's teeth.

Joey grunted, writhing underneath Eric, pulling his arms free and attempting to shove him back. Eric was quicker though, and managed to restrain his arms above his head, giving up on trying to kiss him now.

Joey glared at him harshly, the feeling of Eric's saliva on his lips disgusting him. "What," he spat, "are you gonna _rape_ me now?"

Eric scoffed, shaking his head, his grip loosening. "Fuck you," he retorted. "Don't act like you suddenly don't want me anymore because you're sober."

Joey scowled, pulling his hands free of Eric's grasp. He didn't bother trying to fight, knowing he was in a compromised position. He crossed his arms over his chest, staying as close to the wall as he possibly could; not that he could get any closer.

Eric moved, slower this time, down to kiss him. Joey watched him, carefully, staying still. Their lips touched, and while Joey didn't kiss him back, he didn't push him away either. Eric sighed, a sad sound, and as he began to lean back, Joey leaned forward, opening his mouth and clamping his teeth down on Eric's lip.

Eric gasped, pain shooting through his mouth and jaw. He instinctively jerked back, but Joey bit down harder, and it only hurt him more. He leaned back into Joey, having no other choice. Eric could feel the arrogance dripping out of Joey's pores; it made him sick to his stomach.

Joey pulled Eric's lower lip into his mouth, gently sucking on it. Eric whimpered, his lip throbbing with pain. Joey released his lip, reveling in the sound of his lip smacking against his gums. He smirked, feeling proud of himself.

Eric hissed, running his tongue over his lip, tasting blood. He could see a faint redness on Joey's lips and in his teeth, and he knew it was from him. He groaned, shooting forward and kissing him again.

Eric's lip was sore, but he didn't care. He was kissing Joey so hard their teeth clacked together at times. His tongue slid into Joey's mouth, his hands roaming. His hips, his thighs, his ass, his stomach, his chest, his neck, his hair… Eric wanted to memorize all of him.

They never kissed like this. It was always just a few sloppy kisses to get everything started. Eric couldn't remember the last time Joey's tongue slid across his.

Joey felt small, he wanted to be in control. He pushed at Eric's shoulders, trying to switch positions with him. Eric just ignored him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his jaw and neck, licking every inch of exposed skin he saw.

"E- Eric…" Joey stuttered out, suddenly embarrassed.

This was uncomfortable, foreign. He didn't like having to ask for what he wanted.

Eric hummed, his hands sliding up Joey's shirt. He felt Eric's fingers on his stomach, and he gasped at how cold he was. Joey felt like he was on fire, like the heat was turned all the way up in the room.

"Eric," he said, firmer.

"Hm?" Eric was lost in kissing along the outside of Joey's ear, his neck, down his shoulder…

Joey shuddered, gripping Eric's shoulders. "L- Let's turn around," he was speaking quickly, his voice shaky. What the fuck was happening to him?

"Mm, why?" Eric questioned, his hands now sliding up Joey's spine. "Because you don't wanna be the little bitch for once?"

Joey shoved him, forcefully. "Fuck off-"

Eric cut him off, kissing him again. Joey tried to push him away once more, but Eric spun him around, pushing his face into the wall. He was being an ass, he knew it, but he couldn't help it. He understood why Joey always wanted to be in charge, the big man in control. Joey struggled, but Eric pressed himself flush against Joey's back, pinning him to the wall.

"You fucking prick," Joey gasped out, feeling just how hard Eric was against his lower back.

"I think you forgot that you're not the big guy here. You only tossed me around so much because I let you," Eric pressed on, running his hands over Joey's thighs.

Joey shuddered, hating that he was enjoying this. "Don't fucking touch me," he spat, trying to move away from him.

Eric pressed his lips to Joey's ear, holding him still. "Tell me right now to stop," he murmured, his voice low and serious. "Tell me to stop right now and I will."

Joey trembled, weighing his options. He was sober, he didn't have an excuse for the morning after. On top of that, he'd never bottomed before, and he wasn't sure he was too keen on the idea of it. But the way Eric was pressed against him right now made his stomach burn with arousal. He almost wanted to push back against him…

Eric took his silence as an answer, and quickly reached around to undo Joey's zipper. Joey shuddered, staying quiet even when Eric pulled his cock out, even when he felt his jeans being pulled down his legs.

Joey pressed his palms against the wall, resting his forehead on it. He looked down at the floor, his cock pitifully hard. He felt Eric pushing his shirt up, felt him kissing his back. He hated how gentle he was being.

"You know," Joey started, "I don't even think you'll be able to do it."

Eric stopped what he was doing, his brow furrowing. "What?"

"You're such a little bitch, I don't think you'll be able to do it. You'll be begging me to fuck you, I know you will."

Eric scoffed, moving to hold Joey's hips. His grip was tight, and Joey smirked.

"You're such a fag you don't even know how to fuck a man without taking it up the ass."

Eric grabbed a fistful of Joey's hair, yanking his head back. Joey let out a surprised cry, his gaze now on the ceiling. Eric's free hand was moving over his ass, spreading him apart. Joey's breath hitched in his throat, anxiety rising in his chest.

"At least I can admit what I am," Eric responded, his tone harsh. "I'm not such a little pussy that I hide and pretend I don't fuck guys."

Joey's lips turned into a snarl, and he wished he had the ability to slap the everloving fuck out of Eric.

Eric's fingers danced over Joey's hole, and he shuddered, any argument having left his mind. Eric smirked, pushing the tip of his finger into him. Joey bit down on his lip, closing his eyes tightly.

 _'Don't make a fucking sound,'_ he was telling himself, over and over. _'Don't give him the fucking satisfaction.'_

Eric hummed, pulling his hand away. Joey heard clothes rustling behind him, and he eventually felt the hot tip of Eric's cock pressing against his asscheek. He gasped, the feeling new to him, and Eric chuckled lowly.

"Fuck you," Joey muttered, digging his nails into the wallpaper.

Eric spit into his hand, stroking himself, and Joey groaned at the sound. "Excited?" Eric teased, pressing himself against his entrance.

Joey trembled, staying quiet. Eric gave his hair another light pull, and Joey let out an annoyed huffed, nodding. This pleased him, and Eric pushed his tip inside Joey, his walls already tight.

Joey gasped, pain shooting through his body. "Eric-" he exclaimed, swearing the wallpaper was chipping under his nails at this point.

"Shh, I'm going slow," Eric assured him, letting go of his hair to hold his hips.

Joey sighed in relief, his neck sore from the awkward angle. He hung his head, once again faced with his now-leaking cock. Eric pushed into him a bit more, slowly.

Joey winced, but pushed back against him, wanting to get the initial pain of it all over with. Eric took this as a signal to keep going, and took his time sliding into him until he bottomed out.

Joey was shaking, and Eric could see beads of sweat rolling down his back. He wrapped his arm around Joey's middle, pulling back towards him, their bodies flush against each other. Eric was hunched over, his face buried in the crook of Joey's neck. Joey kept a hand on the wall to steady himself, the other dropping to hold Eric's wrist.

When he finally rolled his hips against Joey, they both shuddered, Eric's moans muffled by Joey's hair. Joey was so tight Eric thought he was going to tear him open if he moved anymore. His walls pulsated around him, and his fingers were digging into his hips.

Joey let out a quiet moan, asking for more. Eric moved again, and this time pain didn't blossom throughout Joey's body. So, he moved with him. Eventually, they had a slow rhythm going, both of them letting out quiet pants and whimpers.

After the pain had subsided, and Eric was sliding into Joey easy enough, he sped up a little. He was trying so hard to be careful, he didn't want to hurt Joey. Joey, on the other hand, was frustrated with this whole process.

"I thought you were going to _fuck_ me," he panted out turning to press his lips against Eric's jaw.

Joey could feel Eric's cock twitch inside him, and it made him tremble.

"J-Just gotta make sure you - you're okay-" Eric stuttered out, still moving at his same slow pace.

"I'm _fine_ ," Joey hissed. "Stop being such a bitch and take what you want already."

Eric's breath caught in his throat at this, feeling challenged. He thought of all the things he could do in this moment, all the things he wanted…

He shook Joey's grip off his wrist, reaching up to grip his throat instead. Joey leaned his head back, exposing his throat.

 _'Like the slut he is,'_ Eric thought, his heart pounding.

He pressed his thumb against Joey's pulse point, feeling his heart race under his skin. He held him tight, and started thrusting into him harder.

Joey was gasping, blood rushing to his face. Eric reached between his legs, stroking his cock in time with his thrusts. "Am I- still a bitch now?" he asked him, his hips slamming against Joey's ass.

Joey's eyes were rolling back in his head, but Eric didn't need to know that.

"W- Worst fuckin' lay I- I've ever-" Joey stumbled out, panting between words, "- had."

Eric scoffed, tightening his grip on Joey's dick. He didn't give a shit what Joey said anymore, he was too busy chasing his own high at this point.

"D- Don't you dare fucking cum inside me," Joey spat out, his own orgasm quickly approaching.

Joey was just going to have to assume Eric heard him, because the only response he got was Eric moaning desperately against his shoulder.

Eric was whining, he was so close.

"God, even when you're the one doing the fucking you're st-still a bitch," Joey grunted, his eyes screwed shut.

Eric was still choking him, still jerking him off, still fucking him in just the right way. God, it all felt too good…

Tears welled up in Eric's eyes, and he internally begged himself not to start crying. He never understood why Joey had to be so cruel to him.

But it was too late, Joey felt the tear hit his skin and turned to see Eric before he could look away from him. Joey was laughing between moans, mocking him. "Oh, and you're crying? You're so pathetic."

Eric's face was red, his throat thick. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but he couldn't, it was pointless anyway. He buried his face in Joey's hair, ignoring his cruel taunts as he continued fucking him.

He did as he was told, pulling out at the right moment and spilling his cum all over the back of Joey's thighs, moaning and sobbing. Joey shuddered, sticky warmth coating his skin. Eric stepped away from him, giving him space to turn around.

Joey grabbed Eric's biceps, walking him backward until he fell on the bed. It felt like last night all over again. Eric watched him, confused, until Joey pulled his jeans off of him completely. Eric whined, shimmying away from Joey.

"N- No… I- I already came…" he whimpered, shaking his head.

Joey pulled him close again, shaking his head back at him. "And I know you can do it again," he cooed, spreading his thighs apart.

Eric let out a sob, slamming his head back against the mattress in frustration. Joey shushed him, like he was a child throwing a tantrum. He ran his hands over his thighs, up to his hips, before gripping his half-hard cock.

Eric whimpered, his thighs jerking. He was so fucking sensitive, he didn't know if he'd be able to take Joey fucking him after that. But Joey was still jerking him off, enticing him, trying to drag another round out of his tired cock.

Tears were streaming out of the corners of his eyes, down into his hair. He sniffled, Joey's fist working over him faster. He could feel himself getting hard again, and he hated himself for being so easy.

Joey pushed the back of Eric's thighs, bending then at the knees, his feet just barely lifted off the bed. Eric kept his eyes shut, never having felt as degraded in his whole life as he did now. Joey hummed in approval, settling himself between his legs, letting Eric's knees rest against his hips.

"Look at me," Joey whispered, trying to soothe him.

Eric shook his head, his lower lip trembling.

" _Look at me_."

He whined, prying his eyes open, shame rushing through him the second he locked eyes with Joey.

"Do you want me?" he was still whispering, and it all felt like a punch to the gut for Eric.

"Yes," he answered, maybe too quick.

Joey nodded, letting his cock slide against Eric's inner thigh. The feeling made his stomach clench, and he whined with need. Joey gripped his thighs, leaning into him.

Joey finally slid into him, his precum making it easy, since he was already stretched from the previous night. Eric was shaking, sobbing, pulling his own hair. Joey could feel his thighs trembling around him. He was watching Eric, eating up the way he was torturing himself.

Strands of purple and black hair stuck out between Eric's clenched fingers, his mouth dropped open, letting out pitiful sobs. He was bucking his hips against Joey's, fucking himself onto him. Joey grunted, digging his fingers into Eric's thighs. His own thighs were shaking at this point.

Joey felt like he was going to pass out, his vision blurred around the edges. His body ached, his thighs burning from the non-stop movement. Before he knew it, he was cumming, his groans borderline animalistic as he spilled inside him, his hips slowly to a stop.

Eric was sobbing, cum leaking out of the tip of his cock. Tears streamed down his hot face, his body covered in sweat and cum. He wanted to bury himself in the sheets and never see the light of day again.

Joey pulled out of Eric, forcing himself to stand on shaky legs. Eric stayed as still as he could, despite his trembling, not daring to look at Joey.

"I-" Joey started, his voice ragged.

Eric swallowed, staring at the ceiling. "You _what_?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Joey grimaced. He wasn't in the right headspace for this.

"Let's…" he paused, his hands trembling by his sides. "Do you want… to come clean up with me?"

Eric closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Y- Yeah, sure," he breathed out, forcing himself to sit up. "We can do that."

Joey nodded, pulling his shirt off and turning to go to the bathroom. Eric stood, slowly, and followed him. He removed his own shirt, stepping in the bathroom with Joey. The tile was cold on his bare feet, and he shuddered. He watched as Joey pushed the sliding doors to the shower open, and turned on the water.

Joey held his hand under the stream of water, testing the temperature, before stepping into the shower. He gestured for Eric to join him, and he did, hesitantly. Joey pulled the shower door shut, the bathtub already filling up with steam.

Eric stepped under the water, sighing at the heat on his skin. Maybe things would be okay…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo...yeah. Joey definitely has some internal conflicts he needs to work through. Sorry this one took me so long, their dynamic is hard to pin down. Hope you like it!


	5. before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mix of flashbacks, set around 2002-2004

_2002\. After a show._

_They're stumbling, all hands and teeth, a mess of tangled limbs and hair. Joey was panting, Eric was whining and kissing his neck. How much had they had to drink?_

_Falling onto a sheet, fingers in each others' hair. Hot breath, skin on skin. Joey was pulling Eric's hair, his free hand already down the front of his pants._

_Pure bliss._

~

_Eric's eyes were locked on Joey, watching him bounce around on stage. He was always so energetic, so fun and full of life. He was cheering, breathless, sweating. Every move he made had the crowd cheering; his actions made Eric's heart thud in his chest. Why was he so beautiful?_

~

_Joey's eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering lightly against Eric's cheeks. They were so close Eric could hear Joey's heartbeat, his breaths. Eric was kissing his jaw, his arms sliding across his waist._

_"Harder," Joey sighed, already fed up with Eric's slow movements._

_"Wanna feel you," Eric murmured in return, keeping his steady, slow pace._

_Joey grunted, frustrated, and pushed Eric onto his back._

_"This is why you can never be in charge," he teased, already pulling Eric's boxers down. "You're too soft."_

_Eric wished Joey would just let him love him._

~

_Screaming, thrown bottles. How dare he?_

_Joey was snarling, all rage, pushing Eric to the side._

_"You don't fucking own me, Eric!" he spat, his voice void of care or kindness. "I can leave if I want!"_

_"So none of it matters to you?! None of it has ever mattered?!" Eric felt like he was going to cry._

_Joey let out a dry laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "How many times do we have to have this argument?! You're nothing to me!"_

_Eric was shaking, rejection and rage coursing through him. What did he ever do to deserve this?_

_"Besides," Joey continued, "You can't even keep your dick in your pants for two seconds. You want to act like you're my boyfriend, but try and fuck any bitch that walks through the doors!"_

_"I know you fucked Wednesday," Eric hissed, his vision red. "I know you did."_

_Joey was taken back, blinking in surprise._

_"Why does that matter?"_

_"Because I l-"_

_"Don't you fucking say it," Joey spat, his glare harsh and cold once more. "Don't you dare fucking say that to me."_

_A burning lump was forcing its way up Eric's throat, his vision blurred with tears._

_"It's true."_

_"No, it's not."_

_Eric laughed, mania seeping into his anger. He threw his hands in the air, bewildered. "I don't know what you want from me!" he exclaimed, exasperated._

_"I want you to leave me the fuck alone."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, ouch. I just keep putting this guys through shit huh? sorry this chapter is short, I'm working on a lot rn!


	6. after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I…" Joey was whispering, his voice muffled by the running water and Eric's neck. "I don't like… this part of myself." 
> 
> Eric frowned, taking a step back so he could look at Joey. His brow was furrowed in confusion, his wet hair sticking to his face. "What do you mean?" he asked. 
> 
> Joey swallowed the lump in his throat, hating how Eric was looking at him. 
> 
> "Being into guys. Liking you. I hate the way it feels - it feels wrong," he admitted, forcing himself to choke out the words. "I wish I could just be fine taking some girl back to my hotel room after a show but I'm not. It's not enough for me, it's never enough for me and I always end up picturing you." 

Joey had his back to Eric, water running down his bare skin. Eric had his hands on the smaller man's hips, rubbing soothing circles over his skin with his thumb. Joey let out an annoyed huff, his head hung low with shame. Eric was spreading him apart, inspecting the damage he'd done. 

Bottoming for the first time without lube was never a good idea, even if the cocky asshole deserved it. 

At least, that's what Eric told himself to make himself feel better. He frowned when he noticed the small tear around Joey's hole, lightly running his finger along it. Joey hissed, his hips jerking forward. 

"That  _ hurts _ ," he spat through gritted teeth, feeling completely humiliated. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Eric exclaimed quickly, ripping his hands away from Joey's body. 

Joey huffed again, pushing himself further into the corner of the shower. Eric merely followed him, pressing his chest against his back. "Hey," he spoke softly, wrapping his arms around Joey's middle. 

Joey shuddered, his skin crawling. Every instinct in him told him to shove Eric off, rush out of the shower, put some clothes on. He forced himself to stay still, swallowing back bile. 

"Hey, I've got you." 

Eric's reassurances meant nothing to Joey. 

"Just let me take care of you." 

That did it.

He spun around, keeping his back pressed against the shower wall. The tile was cold on his skin. 

"Don't touch me," he whispered, folding his arms over his chest. 

He felt exposed, embarrassment coursing through him. 

" _ Please _ , don't touch me." 

His voice was broken, cracking, and it made Eric's stomach twist with pain. He hated seeing Joey like this. 

"What can I do?" he was holding his hands out, whispering, his eyes wide and pleading. 

Joey shook his head, holding his own shoulders. "I-" he cut himself off, trembling with anxiety and shame. "I don't know." 

"Can I help you clean up?" 

Joey took a deep breath, nodding slowly. He didn't move from his spot in the corner, keeping his arms over himself, shielding his body from Eric. Eric moved toward him slowly, keeping his hands raised, showing that he meant no harm; Joey hated that Eric was treating him like a wounded animal. 

Eric's hands ran over Joey's shoulders, down to his biceps, squeezing gently, reassuringly. Joey huffed, keeping his eyes on the shower floor. He watched the water run down the drain, tinted slightly purple from Eric's cheap hair dye. 

Eric gently squeezed and rubbed Joey's tense arms, feeling the muscles that lied underneath. Even if he was small, he was strong - years of drumming gave him muscle gains, which came with stronger arms and legs. Joey slowly relaxed under Eric's touch, letting his arms drop to his sides. 

Joey eventually took a hesitant step forward, still refusing to look at Eric. Eric stayed still, rubbing his thumbs in circles over Joey's shoulders. Joey let out a soft hum, allowing himself to fall forward into Eric's chest. 

Eric gasped in surprise, instinctively moving to hold Joey. He held his waist, looking down at Joey with curiosity and worry. Joey kept his eyes shut, his stomach churning. He buried his face in the crook of Eric's neck, gasping for air. Eric held him, keeping quiet. He wasn't sure what to say. Joey's hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his body trembling against Eric's. Eric rubbed his back, hoping to ease him into speaking. 

"I…" Joey was whispering, his voice muffled by the running water and Eric's neck. "I don't like… this part of myself." 

Eric frowned, taking a step back so he could look at Joey. His brow was furrowed in confusion, his wet hair sticking to his face. "What do you mean?" he asked. 

Joey swallowed the lump in his throat, hating how Eric was looking at him. 

"Being into guys. Liking  _ you _ . I hate the way it feels - it feels wrong," he admitted, forcing himself to choke out the words. "I wish I could just be fine taking some girl back to my hotel room after a show but I'm not. It's not enough for me, it's never enough for me and I always end up picturing you." 

He was speaking quickly now, the words shooting out of him like a bullet. 

"I fucked Wednesday because I didn't want to think of you anymore but I still did. And when I finally thought maybe I could be with you I found out you were fucking around with Roxanne-" 

Eric cut him off, his face twisted up in pain. "I never fucked Roxanne." 

"You  _ tried _ ," Joey spat, his hands shaking. "You  _ tried _ , and Wednesday wanted to beat your skull in. I didn't get why  _ I  _ wasn't enough for you." 

" _ You _ left!" Eric exclaimed, pain turning to anger. " _ You _ left  _ me _ ! I wanted to be with you!" 

Joey spun around, twisting the knobs and turning the water off. He scrambled out of the shower, leaving Eric in the now-cold tub. He ripped a towel off the counter, wrapping it around himself hastily. 

"Because  _ you _ were fucking everyone you saw!" he retorted, lashing out. "And then you tried to tell me you  _ loved _ me!" 

Eric flinched at his harsh tone, following him out of the shower. He grabbed a towel of his own, turning his back to Joey, and wrapped it around himself. He took a breath, steadying himself. 

"You never stayed," Eric finally spoke, his voice low. "You always left in the middle of the night. I'd wake up in the morning and you'd be gone." 

Joey grimaced, looking at his feet. 

"I couldn't stand seeing you when I was sober," he answered, his voice just as quiet. 

Eric fell silent, watching the water roll down his skin. 

"I wish you were just a girl," Joey whispered. "It'd be so much easier. I could do it, I could be with you then. It wouldn't be like this-" 

"If I were a  _ girl _ ?" Eric hissed, twisting to face Joey. "Are you  _ kidding _ me?" 

Joey flinched, taking a step back. 

"Why can't you just love me?!" Eric's neck was strained, tears filling his eyes. 

Curse Joey for doing this to him. 

"I  _ do _ !" Joey cried, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, pulling it in frustration. " _ I do!"  _

Eric stopped in his tracks, his mouth hanging open with forgotten words. He imagined he looked comical, his lips frozen in the middle of a sentence, pure shock decorating his face. 

"God, just stop yelling at me! I'm so fucking sick of this!" Joey's eyes were screwed shut, strands of his black hair sticking out between his fingers. 

Eric couldn't find words, he felt breathless. Joey was trembling, scared to open his eyes. He could almost  _ see _ Eric standing in front of him, poised to strike. He couldn't take this from him, not today, not anymore. 

Eric let out a shaky breath, reaching out hesitantly. 

"Joey…" 

"No…" 

"Joey, please…" 

"No." 

"I- Joey. I'm  _ sorry _ ." 

Joey sniffled, a hole twisting in his lower abdomen. He felt empty, ruined, distraught. He let go of his hair, a few ripped out strands clinging to his fingers. "Why are you sorry?" he muttered, his eyes still closed, wrapping his arms around himself. "You got what you wanted." 

Eric shook his head, moving closer. "This isn't what I wanted," he whispered, gently dragging his fingers over Joey's forearm. 

Joey flinched, but stayed where he was. 

"I just want to be with you," Eric continued, running his hand up to Joey's shoulder. "Do you want to be with me?" 

Joey shuddered, still not daring to open his eyes. "I…" he swallowed, frowning. "I don't know… what I want." 

Eric nodded, slowly, moving to cup Joey's face. "Will you look at me? Please?" 

It felt like a knife was being twisted in Joey's stomach. He forced himself to open his eyes, meeting Eric's gaze. He hated Eric's warm, brown eyes. He hated how sincere and full of love they were. He wanted to run away. 

"I'll wait for you." 

_ 'Please stop,'  _ Joey thought, his gaze lowering to the floor. 

Eric held his jaw, tilting his head up. "I promise," he reassured, his gaze serious.

Joey shuddered, pushing Eric off of him. "Why? Why do you want me so bad?" he questioned, Eric's hands already moving to hold his waist.

"Because I love-" 

"But  _ why _ ?" Joey interrupted, giving up on trying to get Eric off of him. 

Eric frowned, flexing his fingers against Joey's hips. "I don't know," he admitted sheepishly. "I just do." 

Joey sighed, stepping around Eric and making his way to the room. "I got to get dressed, we're leaving in a few hours," he grumbled, throwing his towel to the side. 

Eric followed after him, watching him dig around in his mess of a suitcase for a clean pair of underwear. Joey found what he was looking for, turning his back to Eric, and started getting dressed. He pulled on a pair of jeans before searching for a shirt, Eric still silently watching him.

"Are you gonna stand there naked, watching me like a fuckin' perv, or are you gonna get dressed? I have a shirt you can borrow, I guess," Joey spoke, breaking the silence. 

Eric licked his lips, blinking rapidly, breaking himself out of focus. "Uh, yeah," he responded, clearing his throat before taking a few hesitant steps toward Joey. "Sure."

Eric slowly pulled on his clothes from last night, spare his shirt. He carefully lifted the shirt Joey had tossed on the bed for him, holding it out to get a view of it. It was an old 'dolls shirt, worn out and faded. It made Eric's heart ache to see it; he wondered if Joey gave it to him to wear on purpose. He forced himself to believe it was an accident, and pulled the shirt over his head. His hair soaked the collar, making the damp fabric cling to his collarbones and neck. 

Once he finished dressing, he sat on the edge of the bed, nervously scratching at a loose piece of string on his jeans. Joey finished getting dressed, making his way back to the bathroom. He strolled back into the bedroom, hairbrush in hand, and took a seat next to Eric. He watched Joey begin to brush his wet hair out, the sound of the brush moving through his hair filling the room, breaking the silence. Eric hadn't realized how long he'd been watching him until Joey set the brush to the side, his hair straight and flat. 

Eric found himself blushing, looking down at his lap. Joey crawled up the bed, settling himself behind Eric, spreading his legs to accommodate him. Eric looked over his shoulder in confusion, giving Joey a worried glance. Joey picked up his hairbrush, raising his eyebrows in silent question. Eric blushed harder, quickly looking back at his lap. He nodded silently, straightening his back. 

And so Joey brushed his hair, slowly, hesitantly, before working out a rhythm. Eric stayed still, letting out occasional winced from particularly painful knots, but otherwise staying quiet. Joey slowly detangled his hair, letting it lay flat. It looked strange; Joey was so used to his spikey, gelled hair. 

"Thank you," Eric murmured, picking at his nails, finally turning to face Joey. 

Joey forced a smile, tossing the brush to the side. "Yeah," he answered, his mouth dry. "No problem." 

Eric reached over shyly, tenderly grabbing Joey's hand. Joey instinctively jerked away from his touch, but hesitantly reached for him again. They laced their fingers together, warmth radiating between their palms. Eric smoothed his thumb over the back of Joey's hand, giving him a small smile. 

"I love you," Eric whispered, his eyes locked on Joey, his heart pounding. 

Joey swallowed, staring right back at Eric. " _ I love you _ ," he mouthed, his face burning hot. 

Eric finally got what he wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohh man. morning afters are rough, huh? god bless these poor assholes


	7. goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric didn't want Joey to leave, and if he was honest with himself, Joey found himself not wanting to leave either. Being honest with himself was something he was going to have to force himself to work on. But for today, he could spend what little time he had left with Eric, and try his best to make the most of it. Guilt had been swirling around in his gut since everything happened, and he wanted to make it up to Eric. Since he only had roughly two hours before he had to leave, Joey decided getting food before hitting the road would be the best option.

Eric didn't want Joey to leave, and if he was honest with himself, Joey found himself not wanting to leave either. Being honest with himself was something he was going to have to force himself to work on. But for today, he could spend what little time he had left with Eric, and try his best to make the most of it. Guilt had been swirling around in his gut since everything happened, and he wanted to make it up to Eric. Since he only had roughly two hours before he had to leave, Joey decided getting food before hitting the road would be the best option. He quickly shoved his things into his suitcase, not bothering to keep it neat. 

Eric watched him silently, so many things he wanted to say swirling in the back of his mind. Mostly questions, but he knew they'd go unanswered; he wasn't even sure Joey would know the answers to his questions anyways. Things like ' _ what are we?'  _ and  _ 'why did you wait so long to tell me you loved me?' _ . 

He reminded himself that Joey had answered the last question, swallowing back the lump in his throat. Despite trying his best to understand how Joey felt, it hurt him to know that Joey hated himself for loving Eric. How could Eric ever be okay with that? How could he ever be with Joey romantically and pretend that he didn't know Joey was disgusted by it all? And then, atop it all, act as if he were fine with that, knowing that there was a small part of Joey that resented him? It'd make Eric cry, if his irritated tear ducts could even produce more. His head ached from how much he'd cried. 

When Joey turned around, all smiles and kindness, Eric couldn't help but smile too. It was such a  _ relief  _ to see Joey so happy to see him. It was a beautiful feeling, even under all the pain, to know Joey loved him in return. And when Joey held out his hand expectantly, Eric pretended he couldn't see Joey's fingers trembling, and laced his fingers with his. He squeezed his hand reassuringly, trying to be compassionate. 

This wasn't about him. 

-

Joey felt sick, going somewhere so  _ public  _ with Eric, where anyone could see them. He didn't hold Eric's hand - in fact, he kept his distance. Even as they sat in the booth at the hole-in-the-wall burger joint, Eric noticed Joey shying away from him. When the waitress would come around, Joey would duck his head, keep quiet, let Eric speak. He felt ashamed, he could feel everyone staring at him. 

Eric was reaching for him, a hand searching for his own, but Joey jerked his arm away. Normally he didn't mind the staring, but the elderly couple in the booth caddy-corner to theirs were burning holes in the back of his head. He could feel himself sweating, his stomach felt like it was dropping to his asshole. He hadn't realized Eric was speaking to him until he was waving his hand in front of his face. 

Joey blinked in surprise, swallowing nervously. He grabbed the glass of water, hastily taking a long drink from it. He set the glass down hard, the table rattling. 

"Is it hot in here?" he was breathless, his eyes darting around. 

Eric frowned, once again reaching for Joey's hand. "Hey," he started, keeping his voice low, "it's okay. I've got you." 

Joey laughed dryly, sitting up straight in his seat. "Yeah? Then tell Mr. and Mrs.  _ Saggy Tits _ over there," he was raising his voice with each word, attracting the attention of the people around them. "To stop  _ staring _ at me!" 

Eric flinched at his harsh tone, his gaze flickering to the couple Joey was referring to. They avoided his gaze, quickly looking at their plates. Joey huffed, shaking his head and snatching the menu off the table. "It's fine," he spoke quickly, his tone irritated. "It's fine, I'm fine, can we just order some food and leave? I'm not trying to make my last hour with you another bad memory." 

"'Another bad memory'?" Eric repeated, incredulous. "Is that what I am to you?" 

Joey scoffed, dropping the menu back onto the table. 

" _ No, _ " he answered, snark slipping into his voice, "I'm just  _ saying  _ that it's not like the last twenty-four hours have been the  _ greatest _ ." 

Eric sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Yeah," he grumbled, "sure." 

Joey frowned, staring at his lap. "Can we not do this?" he mumbled, starting to tap his foot from anxiety. 

Eric huffed, sinking in his seat. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice quiet. "Yeah. It's okay. Let's just eat."

Joey sheepishly grabbed his menu once again, hiding his face behind his hair. The pair quietly perused the short list of choices, mostly consisting of burgers and sandwiches. They stayed quiet, neither one wanting to break the awkward silence. 

The waitress eventually made her way back to their table, her gaze wary. Clearly, Joey's outburst had made her uncomfortable. She forced a smile, pulling the notepad out of her apron. "Are you ready to order?" she asked, feigning cheerfulness. 

Eric pursed his lips, trying not to frown, and gently nudged Joey, encouraging him to order. Joey sighed, peeking up at the waitress through his hair. "Can I just get a cheeseburger? I don't need a side," he spoke slowly, avoiding her gaze. 

She tilted her head to the side, the corners of her lips twitching. 

"And a drink?" 

"Coke, I guess. I don't care." 

"And for you?" 

Eric's eyes snapped to hers, completely forgetting to have decided what he wanted to eat.

"Uh," he started, his mouth dry, "can I just get the same thing?" 

The waitress nodded, scribbling their order on her notepad before rushing away. Eric sighed, resting his elbows on the table. "I don't want it to be like this," he said softly, glancing at Joey out of the corner of his eye. 

Joey frowned, crossing his arms. 

"I don't either." 

"Then why are you upset?" 

"Because I don't want to hold your fucking hand in public, okay?" Joey hissed, keeping his voice down, anxiously glancing around the restaurant. 

"Why?" Eric questioned further, his brow furrowing. 

"I don't like it when people stare at me." 

"Bullshit."

"I'm  _ serious. _ "

"You've never cared if people stared at you before." 

"It's different." 

"How?" 

Joey groaned, dropping his head in his hands. "It just  _ is _ ," he muttered. "Can you  _ please _ just go slow with me on this? Please?" 

"You sure don't want to go slow when we're fucking-" 

Joey let out an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands in the air. "God," he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "It's like you're  _ willfully  _ not getting it!"

"I just want it all. All of it. With you," Eric's voice was quiet, barely cracking. 

"Please don't cry," Joey groaned, shaking his head. "I can't do this now, please, don't cry." 

Eric huffed, turning his head so Joey couldn't see his face. "'m'not," he muttered, but Joey knew he was lying. 

Joey sighed, shuffling closer to Eric. "Look," he started, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. "I want this, whatever it is. I want to get lunch with you and see you when I'm in town. I want to go to your place, and I want you to spend the night with me. I just...need to go slow on it all. Especially public things." 

Joey was fidgeting with the hole in the side of Eric's shirt, avoiding his gaze. 

"I can't…stand to think people are thinking about me the way I think about myself," he was whispering now, his head practically on Eric's shoulder. 

Eric sniffled, not bothering to hide the fact that he was crying anymore. What Joey said made sense, he understood it, but there was still that little voice in the back of his mind, telling him it was because Joey was just embarrassed to be seen with him. 

' _ It's not about you _ ,' he reminded himself, taking a breath to steady his emotions. 

"Eric?" 

He stayed quiet. 

"Eric. Please look at me." 

He turned, slowly, eyes red and puffy. Joey frowned, hesitantly reaching up to wipe one of the tears away. "Don't cry," he murmured, and Eric let out a short laugh. 

"Little too late for that." 

Joey laughed too, slowly wrapping his arm around Eric's waist. 

"Yeah, but it made you stop, didn't it?" 

Eric smiled, reaching up to wipe his eyes. "Yeah," he answered, "I guess so."

-

Joey stared out the car window, watching his bandmates slowly beginning boarding the tour bus. He frowned, feeling sad about leaving for the first time in a long while. 

"Are you all packed and ready? All your brothers are gonna miss you while you're away at camp." 

Joey turned, facing Eric. He knew he was just messing around so he wouldn't cry again. Eric promised he wouldn't cry any more after the restaurant, and Joey could tell he was trying his best. Joey smiled, patting the suitcase between his legs. 

"Sure am, mom," he answered, reaching for the door handle. 

"Wait!" Eric exclaimed, shooting forward to grab Joey's arm, stopping him from leaving. 

Joey raised a brow quizzically, moving his hand from the handle. "What?" he asked, shifting in his seat so his body was turned towards Eric. "What's up?" 

Eric let out a shaky breath, reaching forward with trembling hands to cup Joey's cheeks. Joey frowned, the sudden gesture making him a bit uncomfortable. Even so, he reached up to carefully hold Eric's wrists, giving him a small smile. Eric chewed on his lower lip nervously, running his thumbs along Joey's cheekbones.

"Hey…" Joey whispered, rubbing his thumbs over Eric's wrists in time with his movements on his face. "Hey, I'm gonna come back. I promise."

Eric nodded, taking a deep breath. Joey gave him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his wrists reassuringly. Eric gave him a soft smile, gently pulling Joey forward. Joey hummed, moving with Eric, allowing him to close the distance between them, and press a gentle kiss to his lips. Joey sighed, running his hands up Eric's forearms, his biceps, to his shoulders, kissing him slowly. Eric hummed, his eyes closed, his lips moving delicately over Joey's. 

Joey pulled away first, licking his lips, reaching up to gently touch his lower lip. His face was flushed, and for the first time, Joey felt like  _ he  _ was going to cry. He spun around quickly, opening the car door, stepping out. "I-" he choked out, hastily grabbing his luggage. "I have to go. They'll kick my ass if I'm late." 

Eric frowned, but didn't feel like starting another argument. "Oh, um," he cleared his throat, eyeing Joey carefully. "Sure, yeah. I'll, uh, see you?" 

Joey nodded, antsy to get away before the tears started flowing. "Yeah, I promise," he answered, shutting the car door and turning on his heels, making his way to the bus. 

Eric rolled down the window, calling out to him, "Hey!" 

Joey spun around, huffing. 

"Yeah?" 

"I love you." 

Joey smiled, glancing over his shoulder at the group of guys waiting on him. "I know," he responded, switching his suitcase to the other hand. "Me too." 

Eric smiled, satisfied. It was the best he was going to get. 

He watched Joey board the bus, clutching his steering wheel; he already missed him. He stayed, watched the rest of Slipknot follow Joey onto the tour bus. Eventually, the bus slowly left the almost empty parking lot, leaving Eric alone. He wasn't sure how long he sat in that lot, but by the time he started his car again, it was dark. 

On the back of Eric's hand was Joey's phone number, scribbled in sharpie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT ITS!! it's done....im kind of sad actually :(  
> thanks for sticking along with me on this ride, I hope you guys enjoyed it as much a I did <3


End file.
